


The Conversation

by hrhrionastar



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-22
Updated: 2011-07-22
Packaged: 2017-10-21 15:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrhrionastar/pseuds/hrhrionastar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the quote, "Our children change us...whether they live or not." Cara thinks about her lovers and her son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Conversation

_“Our children change us…whether they live or not.”_

She used to imagine the conversation. How it would go. What she would say. What they would say.

If they would understand.

“I lost my son,” she says. “You took him from me.”

“It was for your own good,” Darken Rahl answers, stalking ever closer to her. “You could never have fought by my side as a _mother_.”

His contempt—once she would have shared it. But children change us.

She turns from him, trying to flee—but her wrists are bound in chains. “I let it happen. I let them take my son!” she wails.

“You did your duty,” Dahlia says firmly. “We are Mord’Sith.” Dahlia’s jaw is set and hard, her eyes flinty.

“Cara!” yells Richard. Suddenly, he is before her. He easily cuts through her chains, and she slumps against him.

“My son is gone,” she tries to explain. “My baby…”

“Don’t worry,” says Richard. “We’ll get him back. We’ll all be a real family—together.”

She nods, but then Richard is gone, pushing her into Leo’s arms.

“I gave up my son to be a warrior,” she tells him, blinking.

“Where I come from, the man does that,” Leo teases, and then he kisses her.

But he isn’t listening. She pats him gently on the cheek, and pulls away.

She’s looking for something.

Headlong, she races around. Suddenly she realizes she’s naked.

It feels right—she owns nothing. Nothing all her own.

One moment, her hair is long and loose, the next shorn and wispy.

And then there’s Kahlan.

At last, her face crumples, tears in her eyes. “My son is dead.” Her voice is flat, emotionless. Usually this is where it ends. Her newfound, desolate certainty.

This time, though, it doesn’t stop. “You can’t give up hope like that,” Kahlan insists.

“Why not?”

“I won’t let you.” Kahlan grins. “That’s an order.”

“My son…” Cara moans, and then she wakes. Eyes open. Muscles tense. “My baby…”

With her last breath, Cara will pray for her son.

 _Our children change us…whether they live or not._

Cara has to believe her son lives.

“Thank you, Kahlan,” she whispers, into the dark.


End file.
